My World Ends with You
by Shirley Medici
Summary: Set in the politically motivated Middle Ages, two star-crossed people meet and discover the wonderful feeling of being young and hopelessly in love. Will their ill-fated love survive the overwhelming tides of betrayal and trials or will it sink underneath the ocean of memory?
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I wasn't able to update A Mechanic's Tale because I'm heartbroken (My dog died) and I can't think of any gags. Anyways this tale has some references on Tristan and Iseult by Rosemary Sutcliff. Also I borrowed a character from When Two Worlds Collide by Wife of the Great Fool.**

 **Chapter 1: A Harp weaved Tale**

One particular evening, when traces of winter was blending in with the whistling gales of wind and heaven cried storms; a servant came in with news that a stranger awaited outside, asking for shelter.

"Bring him in." Emperor Nobunaga ordered. "My generosity is extended for all men seeking for it."

And so the stranger came in. Under the torchlight's illumination they could see a tall, hooded man with skin resembling a phantom lurking drearily on a church's yard, a spectre in the marshlands. His mysterious aura had led many of the Emperor's vassals to believe he was a god seeking for the goodness in human hearts, as told by myths and legends passed down from generation to generation.

He came up to the Hall and thrust back the heavy folds of his robe, revealing a harp sheltered against the night's frenzy.

"Greetings, my friend." said the Emperor as the man knelt at his feet. "You are most welcome on such a night as this. Eat and drink until you satisfy your fill and then maybe of your gallantry you will weave a tale on the strings."

"Most willingly, your Highness." replied the stranger in exquisite manners.

He was given a place beside the hearth along with freshly brought food and a cup of wine. And when he finished he took his harp and ran his fingers across the glittering chord. "Which is your choice of tale, my Lord? A narrative of war? A song sung of rowdy hunters? Or a ballad of romance?"

"Any song will do." The Emperor scratched his head.

"Love." said Empress Jenna after taking her rightful seat with the Emperor. She was wearing a beautiful crimson silk kimono outlined by golden images of dragons.

The storyteller fell silent, his hooded face staring in the firelight as though he reminisced something deeply etched in his heart, reawakening nostalgic memoirs in the enchanting music. Accompanied with a heartbroken sigh, he said softly. "I will tell the tale of Julius and his lady Jeanne."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Beginning of the End**

When King Arthur of Camelot had inherited the throne from his deceased father, there was a devastating war between Camelot and France that had originated from time immemorial. Neither side was winning nor losing, turning many young men into memories in the process. A weakling in nature, the newly appointed king sought help from the powerful King of Rome, Gaius Caesar.

Arthur's request was not turned down in vain.

Together they won a great victory against the French, crushing anything that stood in their way. As a way to keep a powerful ally; Arthur gave his fairest sister, Morgana in marriage to Gaius.

For some time Gaius had lived happily with his new queen. But all this was fated to end when she bore their son. In Morgana's last breath, she named the baby Julius, which meant Jove's child, kissed him lovingly on the forehead and died. And for Gaius it was as though the seas dried out and the stars crashed from the sky. From that day onward, the grief-stricken king had vowed to his dead wife's body that he would raise their son to become a greater warrior than he, a conqueror of nations the world has yet to behold.

The king himself took hold of his son's education and taught him to ride, to fight, to bear pain unwaveringly, courtly manners and other lessons to mould the future leader. By evening the king would play his golden harp under the great elm's shade with his little son nestled by his side, singing stories of his own conquests; the words whispered by the lush grasses caressed by the zephyr.

One day when Julius was nineteen summers old, he and his old father was sitting underneath the same elm tree, now grown sparse with age. King Gaius lifted a withered finger to the everlasting star littered sky. "Son, what do you see?"

"I see empires to conquer, battles to be fought." Julius's clear blue eyes burned with determination. "I want to see the world and rule it, father."

And the old monarch knew that the day he long feared has come. The time when his son would venture on the world's hazards alone, away from his protective wing. "I am getting old; Rome needs a strong ruler like you to take its wild reins." He begged tearfully. "No one has bested your prowess in this kingdom. You are our champion and strength. Remain here, for your sake, for my sake, for honor's and for our people."

"I must achieve the impossible." Julius held his father's sickly hand and kissed it. "Let me be."

Eventually King Gaius realized that the wheels of fate have begun to turn, which no man could stop. The next day a ship was made ready and when the winds turned favorable, the company set sail towards the vast sea.

Unknown to the young prince, King Gaius watched their departure high above a ledge, an inscrutable agony haunting in his mind.

It had been a long desire in the young prince's heart to visit his mother's homeland. He had heard about its charms through some wandering merchant's tales. The journey was long and full of peril due to the storms that ravaged the calm sea. Finally they arrived to the abandoned northeast port of Camelot, bought horses and rode south to the castle.

So they came at twilight to Camelot Castle high above a hill, overlooking the silent city and stood at last before King Arthur in the exotic golden Hall. When the monarch laid eyes on the prince, he somehow saw two faces merged into one. The youth's wavy white hair made him remember his sister's long snowy tresses braided with honeysuckle and roses on her wedding day.

"Where have you sea travellers come from?" The King asked casually.

"From Rome." Julius replied.

"Have you seen my sister, Morgana the White Rose?" The king said. "How foolish of me, she had died a long time ago."

"I was born on the day she died." Julius said. "I am her son."

The king held the beautiful youth in his arms and wept. For King Arthur it was like his dear sister was resurrected from the realm of Hades and returned to the living whole and alive. It made the king feel lonely and happy at the same time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: An Old Debt**

In the patch-up peace between the two warring nations, an agreement was made. As a sign of friendship, Camelot must pay a yearly tribute of gold, corn and cattle to the more powerful France. Over the years both parties dropped the pledge and was soon forgotten. However France had come across some financial difficulties and decided to revive the old debt which had accumulated for over seventeen years.

King Arthur refused to pay and insisted a loan with a huge interest. Enraged at the king's disloyalty, the King of France sent his mightiest champion, Alexander the Great, with a fleet of warships to destroy Camelot- or else find a suitable warrior to face Alexander in single handed combat.

There was no hope of winning. France had grown incredibly strong and influential due to her advanced weaponry her geniuses invented during the blooming time of Renaissance. The people of Camelot began to abandon their homes, turning the once bustling metropolis into a ghost town.

Julius sought out his uncle and volunteered to be a representative of Camelot. "I am the champion of my birthplace." He said. "Have confidence in my abilities."

"You are nothing but a boy!" King Arthur protested. "You are throwing your life away."

"I am here for honour and glory." Julius replied. "Not for cowardice! I am your nephew and therefore a nearest thing you have for a son. I have the right to go."

And King Arthur knew he was right. The king would have volunteered to take the prince's place if it wasn't for his faint-heartedness. He loved his kinsman but he valued his life and riches more than anything. So King Arthur sent word to Alexander that a prince from the royal house of Rome would meet his request.

Their meeting place was set upon a remote island near the Pacific. As soon as the dawn broke on the fated day, Julius and Alexander came upon the island in separate boats. But when Julius landed, he pushed his boat off and allowed the waves to carry it away.

Curious, the French champion could not help but ask. "Such a peculiar, young man! Why let the tides carry your mode of transportation away?"

"Two boats aren't necessary." Julius unsheathed his sword. "Only one gets to leave the island alive."

Alexander laughed in a terrible voice. The yellow-mane champion was impressed by the albino prince's courage. He had battled for ages, facing different kinds of battle-hardened warriors but never had he encountered such a daring lad with a suicidal wish!

Alexander secretly wished that he could capture the prince, transport the unconscious boy back to his kingdom and marry him off to his niece. France deserved Julius more. No, France needed Julius to be her next ruler! And if King Arthur wanted Julius back, the puny king would have to face him, the rebirth of Hercules first.

A fierce battle lasted for a whole day. Julius was a swifter swordsman but Alexander was as strong as a lion. The French's slashes were so powerful that there were times that Julius had to rely on his shield for his life. However Julius began to notice that his enemy was aiming solely for his head, occasionally throwing blunt objects such as pebbles and branches in a hope to stun him.

In one unlucky chance, Julius placed his shield so low that Alexander had dealt a great blow on the left side of his face, scarring it beyond recognition.

Julius bit his lower lip in extreme pain. He lost the eyesight from his left eye. Tired and weakening from blood loss; a sudden burst of desperate adrenaline seized him and he leapt forward, crashing it down to the enemy's skull.

The sword buried itself upon the French champion's brains, thus killing the mortal embodiment of war.

And Julius walked down the white sand shores absentmindedly, his injured eye weeping tears of blood. He had unknowingly survived a battle that almost cost his life and won victoriously. He could hear his comrades rejoicing but those voices seem to float on the air…

* * *

As soon as the news of Alexander's defeat reached France, the King sent men to retrieve the dead champion's body. Among them was the King's daughter, the Princess Jeanne. She was devastated at her uncle's death, for she had grown in his care and was determined to see him for the last time. When she arrived to the island she did indeed see her dear uncle's corpse ravaged by vultures and a button made of pure gold near it. Secretly she hid the button in her pocket; in case she met a man whose uniform lacked a piece…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Golden Maiden**

Meanwhile Julius lay sick from his wound in Camelot castle. The wound had scarred his face so hideously that he had to wear a white mask to conceal it. And when it was healed, the King rejoiced and decided to make him his heir. There was a great uproar in the court especially to the old lords. The aged courtesans were jealous at the young prince's success. They even went as far as to accuse Julius for winning the king's favour through sexual advances.

Upon hearing their accusations even Julius himself urged the king to get married and have heirs of his own.

"Give me three days to decide upon the matter." King Arthur said.

Three days had passed and still the king had not made up his mind. On the fourth day an uncanny pair of yellow nightingales fought over a single strand of long golden hair. The strand fell on the king's gloved hand. The hair glimmered when sunlight struck it as if it had come from the magic looms of Rumplestiltskin. Perhaps it was touched by Midas?

Whatever the reason may be, there was only one woman in this world that could have owned it. And finally Arthur found the solution to his problem.

King Arthur presented the glimmering strand to the court. "I will wed the woman to whom this hair belongs."

To clear his name, Julius volunteered to find the future queen. His intention was pure, their thoughts weren't.

However the more success he had, the more enemies he earned. Little did the masked prince know that all condemnatory eyes were upon him, waiting for a slightest sign of human error.

Most of the noblemen were plotting to bring his ultimate ruin…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Information**

Julius once again travelled the medieval seas on another adventure. Without any clues of the woman's whereabouts, Julius had only destiny and the guiding winds to trust for.

And mysterious Fate took the captain's lead upon the young prince's destiny.

Ironically the gentle zephyr blew the ship to the French coastline, the eternal nemesis of Camelot and Rome, the Queen of innovations. If France had materialized into a woman, she was the empress of empresses, the beautiful seductress adorned with necklaces of diamonds and earrings of black pearls.

Upon landing the fatal shores Julius took the disguise of a wealthy merchant selling exquisite jewellery. There was an incredibly huge bounty for his head. Everybody recognized his beautiful snowy hair. To prevent recognition he had dyed it to a temporary raven black.

Julius remained there for a few days, mingling with the French townsfolk in a hope to fuel his search for the golden maiden. One night on a seedy tavern, the disguised prince overheard a conversation between two peasants talking about the King's boon.

Julius sat between the two farmers. "What boon?"

The rowdy rustic spat on a spitting jar near his seat. "You're certainly aren't from these parts…" He made a rubbing sign with his two dirty fingers. "Information doesn't come cheap."

Julius snickered and placed a pile of gold coins on the table. "Will this cover it?"

The two peasants looked at the shimmering wealth and began to greedily divide it among themselves. "Such generosity, my Lord." The other one cooed in a raspy voice.

"Tell me what I need to know." Julius said.

The rustic men began to eye one another and smiled evilly. "Come closer so I can whisper it on your ear." The peasant addressed to Julius.

The prince leaned closer. The peasant pulled out a knife and secretly pointed it at Julius' side. "Fork over the rest of the gold, Money Bags." the rustic warned. "Or casualties will be made."

Being an expert on the theatrical arts, Julius pretended that he was frightened and was willing to cooperate to the robbers' demand. He rummaged through his coat for a hidden dagger. The man, tricked by the disguised prince's act, eased his hand with the knife.

Seizing the opportunity, Julius slit the thief's throat with his ornamented dagger. The severed head flew across the room, landing on a waitress's tray. The headless body toppled down in the beer trough, dyeing the beverage a deep red.

The people started running out of the bar in fear for their lives. In shock, the remaining robber eyed the corpse of his companion in dread before running away with the crowd.

Julius threw the dagger towards the robber in perfect accuracy. The bejewelled knife nailed the rustic's sleeve on a wall, missing the flesh in an inch's length.

"I'm done playing games!" Julius grabbed the man's tangled hair and aimed a sword on his throat. "Speak now or forever lose your tongue!"

"T-There was a magical serpent that was enamoured by the princess' beauty." The scared thief explained fearfully. "Falling in love at first sight, he appeared in court to woo her but the King turned down his offer. Enraged, the serpent laid waste to the land killing cattle and people alike. The king offered his daughter's hand in marriage to anyone who could kill the mighty reptile."

Julius held the cold blade to the burglar's flesh so closely that some blood seeped out. "Where can I find this serpent?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: The Serpent King**

Julius read a map and followed its highlighted lead. According to the thief, the magical creature was said to reside in an ancient cavern in the middle of a forest of willows.

Upon entering the dropping forest, he brought a ball of thread with him and unwound it as he went on. In that way he could safely find his way out later… if he defeated the serpent. Julius was wise; the thief had warned him about the enchanted forest's dangers. There was a legend- a proven fact that the woodland's dark enchantment would trap any unsuspecting man, letting him wander around in circles for the rest of eternity.

He pulled the horse's harness abruptly, stopping the spritely animal. Spotting a small, bubbling spring he stooped down to get some for himself and the mammal. Julius splashed water on his hot face, panting and bewildered.

The masked prince was convinced he was lost.

Julius knew he had been going around in circles. He had allegedly passed by the same spring for the fifth time. Every tree looked identical; the trail he made had mysteriously disappeared.

Or did it?

The forest was changing before his eyes. The drooping trees seem to take a more enchanting form, its green leaves turned into a collection of rainbow themed colours. The spiritual energy in this area was at its purest form. He wasn't lost. He had entered the very heart of the forest, a rare virgin from humanity's greed.

The spring vanished and a great cave enshrouded by willows took its place. A Strong, cold wind blew from it. Lighting a torch, Julius proceeded with great caution. Slippery moss grew beneath the cavern's foothold and water dripped from the high ceiling. Jagged stalactites hung over the ceiling, a thousand spears formed by the constant dropping of mineral rich water. Strange wonders awaited him further, glossy smooth rocks formed imitational oceanic ridges, egg shaped stalagmites in eternal prostration and luminous jewels covered the walls like stalking will-o-wisps, making a faerie scene.

It was a lone path, albeit a long one. Soon he entered a huge chamber that turned out to be a complete opposite of a cave's interior. It was furnished with rich, golden furniture. Great piles of treasure lay in all corners of the room.

In the center of the chamber lay a bed, and in the bed lay a crowned man with long blue hair. Julius knew the man was not a mortal. He was dressed in a robe fashioned like a fish's scales. His kaleidoscopic eyes shone like burning coals.

The man stood up from his gilded coach and smiled. "Ah, you must be Prince Julius of Rome! I have heard many of your feats and I presume you have come to challenge me?"

"That may be, Serpent."

The man frowned with uttermost displeasure. "I am the Serpent-king." He said in a snake like voice. "Treat your betters with respect."

"Save your courtesy for later, Snake." Julius gripped his sword firmly. "Let our weapons do the talking."

"Fool! You will regret this!" The Serpent-King's appearance began to alter in a supernatural metamorphosis. His silky skin wrinkled, turning into frightening bluish scales. His face distorted into a reptile's fanged snout dripping with reeking poison. His body stretched and grew longer.

A giant snake stood in place of the once mysterious man.

The Serpent-King lashed his spiked tail on Julius. Julius defended himself with his platinum shield. Despite the shield's rigidity, it broke due to the overwhelming impact and shattered to a thousand pieces. The spikes embedded itself deeply on the young prince's arm, secreting a dangerous poison.

Acting out of pain, Julius cut off the spikes with his sword and ran out of the chamber to the rough cavern. Julius hid behind a huge boulder, looking for an opening attack. He made a wrong decision to face the snake directly, a near suicide. He had to deal with its fangs and strong tail all at once.

"A coward!" The creature of evil slithered thru and fro the cave, its forked tongue darting out. "You can run but you can't hide." The serpent reared its head and displayed its poison dripping fangs. "I'll s-s-s-sniff you out."

Julius coughed loudly. When he placed his hand over his mouth, droplets of blood came with the cough. It was not a good sign. Since the toxin was directly administered on his arm, the deadly substance had no trouble travelling to his heart, stopping the vital organ within a few minutes…

And with those precious minutes he was going to kill the Serpent-King, no matter what!

"Hmm?" The serpent hissed playfully. "Giving out hints, eh?"

The snake crept en route for his hiding place with great agility.

That's it closer…!

Seizing his chance, Julius sprang in and drove his sword directly to the beast's throat, wounding the creature fatally.

"It hurts-s-s-s-s!" The serpent bellowed in pain, wriggling in agony and spewing out great gouts of black blood. It retreated hastily and slithered its way to the to a large chamber filled with spear like stalactites.

The serpent thrashed wildly, causing an inland earthquake. The cavern's walls shook violently, rocking the pointed stalactites from above. Julius gored the adorned weapon between the glossy scales, finding its way to the heart.

"You think you can defeat me so easily?!" The monster cried out, weakening from its wounds.

"Maybe not." Julius sneered, tossing a small pebble in the air and catching it with his right knuckle. "But this can."

The serpent laughed. Its terrible voice filled the space before echoing to a faint whisper. "A mere rock cannot kill me, mortal."

With all his remaining strength Julius hurled the rock towards the stalactites. The projectile hit the spikes with great accuracy. Deep rumbles reverberate as the uncountable stone spears impaled the monster, killing it.

Dying, Julius forced the creature's bleeding mouth open and hacked off the tip of its tongue. He hid it in his vest before succumbing to darkness' embrace.

* * *

The French princess was riding her dainty mare dressed and coated to suit a noblewoman's tastes. Equestrian was her daily hobby. She loved sneak out of the castle, wear hair-concealing bonnets and ride all day long in the bliss of freedom. She knew her life wasn't in her control and the feeling suffocated her to the point of breathlessness.

One of her favourite routes was the road beside the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest.

Princess Jeanne saw something quite unusual in the path she was so accustomed:

The ancient willows seem to abandon their bewildering pattern, forming a clear pathway in their parting branches. Men with grey beards and torn sandals came running out in happiness, free from the bewitching spell of the evil woodland. Something incredible must have happened. There in the unblocked grassy road lay a thread with sparkling clarity. The princess picked it up and followed the source of the silver cord.

Before long she was able to stumble across an old cave. Taking up her courage, Princess Jeanne took hold of her horse's reins in her one hand and the cord in the other, trusting the thread as her guide.

As she reached a large rough chamber, the thread lost its source. She didn't need the silver cord for guidance anyway for the roof had collapsed, allowing sunlight to enter.

The princess saw the feared serpent, dead and impaled by the hazardous stalactites. She was at peace, her people were safe.

But among the debris lay the unconscious slayer, suffering from the deadly toxins he received through the innumerable punctures on his arm.

Mistaking the masked prince for an elderly warrior, the princess took pity and set to work to mount him on the horse. She mounted in front and sped to a nearby farm she had secretly bought.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Contradicting thoughts**

Scarcely by nightfall had Princess Jeanne arrived to the modest farmhouse. She quickly salved the unconscious prince's wounds and bound them with clean bandages. The prince was starting to have violent convulsions and she was afraid he would expire due to the delay of the treatment.

After four crucial hours of intensive cures, the convulsions had stopped and the prince lay peacefully asleep. Placing a stool beside the bed, she sat there to watch after him.

Princess Jeanne could not help but take a long gaze at the serpent-slayer sleeping in her bed. Under the bright lantern's glow she could see that he was not the elderly knight she had mistaken him for. She parted the hair covering his face and an inky black substance stuck to her hand. Using a clean towel she gently cleaned his hair until the beautiful, snowy whiteness re-emerged. Dipping the towel in cool water, she dabbed the murk away from his sleeping face.

It was no battle-hardened fighter but lovely Cupid in the flesh.

Princess Jeanne blushed. It was her closest encounter with a man, let alone a handsome one. All her life she was imprisoned in her chambers, waiting for the right prince to marry her. The only men she saw were her father and the balding steward, therefore implying that all men had grey beards.

The shy princess could not help but kiss his lingering lips softly. She kissed him again and again without stirring the masked prince in his sleep. Princess Jeanne compared herself to the goddess Selene, gliding down from the nocturnal skies to caress Endymion in his eternal slumber.

Remembering the lessons she had learned in the nunnery, she scold herself for acting very unladylike. As a lady of high society, they were taught to hide their faces and ignore their suitors. By wonders she forgot all that and gave her first kiss to a complete but a beautiful stranger.

The princess was thinking about loving thoughts until her eyes fell on his gilded, white uniform. The buttons resembled the one she kept in her pocket.

Cupid was Hades.

Love is evil coated in sweet honey. A treat to one's lips, a sore to one's body and soul.

The handsome youth was her uncle's killer. She took out a knife in the dresser. She hated herself. What shame, oh so dreadful shame! She had smothered the vile murderer's face with her kisses. But she was viler still, for falling for his sweet looks. He looked like an innocent flower, beautiful and seductive to the touch but all awhile he was the snake underneath it. She was traitor to France and her family.

Yes, she was going to kill him, he was evil. No, she can't, she couldn't possibly can. He was under her roof, a guest shielded by his host's hospitality. Such murder would stain her dignity.

And wound her heart?

The princess called him a satanic angel, a light engulfed in darkness, a lamb with a wolf's heart, a cursed blessing and other such contradicting names which showed the struggle only visible within her, fighting, wrestling, howling, and tearing its way out to the stillness of the room from the very depths of her confused soul.

Finally love won, expelling the inner demons that beheld her. She threw the knife away as if it was a thing that revolted her. The stranger had indeed killed her dearest kin but her uncle would have killed him if the situations turned. It was a fair fight, the soldiers said. The stranger did save her country and herself from the Serpent-King and that enough was a reason to spare his life. The masked prince did kill her kinsman but he had also saved millions of her people.

The prince awoke from his deep dream from the sound of clanking metal. He opened his dreamy blue eyes and gazed to her, his lips breaking into a sweet smile; a silent thanks.

Princess Jeanne smiled too, a gentle grin free of malice.

As for the abandoned knife… it was best to be forgotten!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: A girl named Julia**

Julius spent his days helping in the dainty farm with the girl who called herself Julia. She was fair as a rose and surprisingly blemish-free for a girl working on a farm. Julia was a mysterious lady; she always hid her hair under a bonnet. At first she would only observe him from a distance, but soon they formed an unlikely friendship.

There were days she would disappear like a crashing wave and return by nightfall, when all souls dwell in Hypnos' spell.

One time Julia departed early and unintentionally left the door open. When Julius awoke he had hastily assumed that robbers had kidnapped her. Armed with his sword, he scouted the outskirts of town warily. On one occasion Julius was gored by a boar because he had injured the frightened animal, thinking it was a sleeping abductor.

Although the prince's wound was shallow, it left him to a helpless state until Julia found him all bloody and in terrible pain. With tears, she brought him back to their abode, treated his wounds and scolded him for such a rash act.

"I was worried." Julius said. "That something bad might have befallen upon you."

Julia fell silent, an overwhelming guilt seized her. She couldn't tell Julius her real identity. She waited for the right opportunity to do so.

Meanwhile the masked prince continued his work as a merchant. The trade was good and soon he was able to earn a decent living. With business smarts and money, he was able to renovate the simple bungalow to a manor. It seems he was willing to abandon the pompous court and his imperial status for a simple living.

As the days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, their friendship became stronger and shyness began to fade away like a thing in the past. The two became inseparable; one was not without the other. Perhaps in the strong bond, something far more meaningful began to blossom…

Spring had come to flush away winter's foreboding. The deers had woken from their slumber and had once again pranced in the meadow's gaiety, aloof and fearless. The rivers were revived with the strong push of vibrant life flowing in the frozen waters. Singing was heard, a chorus composed of a multitude of birds coloring the blue skies.

The two friends sat on a bench outside their house witnessing the birth of a carpet of flowers, a dress of Mother Nature. They still wore scarves that Julia had spent the whole autumn knitting, for the air was still chilly.

Julius pointed to the brightest star reigning for a brief moment in the daylight. "That's the Morning Star, the Aphrodite midst the thousand constellations."

"It's beautiful." Julia said in awe as she buried her hands under her woolly scarf. "I never thought there was an inner astronomer in you."

"Beautiful…" The young prince said shyly. "Like you."

Julia blushed and playfully hit him on the arm. "I still haven't forgiven you for placing a dead beetle on my dresser!"

"Don't act innocent! You dropped a toad on my cocoa!" Julius made a peace sign with his fingers.

They had a good laugh. Then Julius whispered. "I'm telling the truth. You really are beautiful, inside and out."

Julia bit her lip. The disguised princess knew it was the opportunity to tell him the truth she had been long concealing. "I need to tell you something, please don't get mad."

"I promise I won't."

"Okay." Julia inhaled before speaking. "I'm a princess."

"Did you kiss the toad on my cocoa?" Julius laughed, thinking it was a joke. "Those warts had done something alright."

"I'm serious." Julia said. "My real name is Jeanne and I'm a French princess. I need your help."

Julius sat closer to her and placed his hand over hers comfortingly. "I'm here for you."

"Yesterday I learned that the castle steward had claimed to kill the Serpent-King." The princess said. "My father will give my hand in marriage to the Serpent-slayer. I don't love him. Save me from this fate!"

After she finished speaking there was a startled silence between them. The gentle zephyr blew, causing their hair to sway along the squall's rhythm. It was the same wind from Rome, the breeze that blew under the sparse elm tree where he spent his boyhood days listening to his father's tales. It made Julius recall that he was a prince, not a shrewd merchant he had grown accustomed.

"I will fight for you until the end of my life." Julius said. "If I succeed, stay by my side and be my queen for the rest of eternity."

"I'll follow you to the ends of the earth." The French princess replied softly as she kissed him, sealing their deal with a kiss. For them everything else faded.

All that remained is two young people wondrously in love.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Double-edged Retribution**

Julius went to the palace two days after that. He had donned his former princely clothing, a nice change to his linen tunics. The transformation had awed the villagers who had grown to love the generous trader. The townsfolk had never imagined him to be the great champion who slew the king's brother. It made the citizens uneasy however, that a wanted criminal was lurking in their marketplace right under their noses.

But all that was forgiven. The prince _did_ expand the town's economic status. He was a nice gift-giver and a good neighbour who shared his blessings to the entire neighbourhood. The mayor liked him too, and the mysterious woman who lived with him. The respectable figure of authority had often dinned at their home, helping himself to the chocolate cake which happened to be the jolly politician's favourite.

But the mayor was a man with a strict sense of justice. Julius was a criminal; the politician wasn't to be swayed by delicious bribes. There was a trial, a lawsuit and a reverend judge who happened to be the mayor wearing a powdered wig. However Julius was in a hurry. In public apology he left a great banquet for the whole town to enjoy and a cake for the mayor's private pleasure.

The judge gladly proclaimed that Julius was not guilty of any offense. The hammer had done its duty once again. After all Lady Justice would remove her blindfold for a bite of moist desserts!

Meanwhile, the palace's great hall was filled with innumerable scholars and nobles to deem who was lying and who was telling the truth. The steward was falsely proud. He had come across the dead serpent and no sign of the hero at all. The warrior must have been buried alive under the rubble and opportunity has given the balding crook a jackpot chance. He had secretly liked the princess ever since she was a mere child. The steward had made several advances towards her and the lady had put him off every single time. She loathed him to the extreme, to the point of calling him a perverted mongrel.

He would win, he was sure. Then he would spend the rest of his life in luxury with his little wife tied around his finger. The crown fitted him perfectly; it had concealed his hairless noggin. The steward had been trying it on while the king is out. Once he married the beautiful shrew, some pitiable 'accident' would end the former monarch's life.

The plan was perfect.

The trial began. The French king detested the idea of marrying his daughter to a man she hated. He managed to put it off for a year, waiting for another person to claim the honour. His daughter, the Princess Jeanne said she had rescued the rightful hero. This gave joy to the old man. He sent her to live with the hero to see if she liked him or not.

The princess adored him. This pleased the king more. He liked the idea of having a brave young man for a son-in-law. The king had long waited the day where he would finally meet the hero who conquered his daughter's heart.

The old king sat on his throne, smiling from ear to ear. A fine young man with an aristocratic upbringing presented himself before the king. When his eyes rested upon the prince's snowy hair, his smile faded to a sneer. All his amusement bred to ill-contempt.

It was Julius, the crown prince of Rome and his enemy's nephew. The king was fuming from deep within. Julius was the damned murderer of his beloved brother, Alexander. His ancestors would curse him forever if he allowed this killer to wed his beautiful daughter.

The royal sceptre cracked from his grip in anger. The king faked a smile. It was improper for a king to openly show his displeasure.

But he vowed a bitter revenge later, something that would scar the young prince forever.

The trumpets blared loudly to signify the start of the event. The king waved his sceptre as a sign for silence. He spoke about his promise of the Princess' hand to the worthy knight who rid them of the great bane and how many brave men had lost their lives in the attempt.

He let the steward speak first. The steward stood forward cheekily and said. "Your Highness, I slew the serpent after a long and hazardous battle that nearly cost my life. All that for the love of the Princess. Here is my proof." The balding man signalled his companions and the men brought the carcass from a door using a cart.

The body of the serpent had not shown any sign of decay. There were tons of sword slashes on the head and great wounds on its body. When the steward found the carcass, he drew his sword and hacked the monster. Then he returned to town to gather his henchmen and load the proof to a wagon. The crowd clapped deafeningly and the king hushed them again.

"A crook may easily steal another man's glory." The king said sceptically.

"Who would walk away from a great prize?" demanded the crafty man. "I have won fairly. There is no question to that."

"Hold your tongue." The king said. "Let the second claimant speak on his behalf."

Julius walked forward and said. "My King, I had landed on this shore unintentionally on my search for the maiden with the golden hair, the one whom King Arthur loves. On my stay I have heard of the sore trouble that had befallen of this land. By Fate's hand, I was able to slay the foul creature, but I was poisoned by its sharp fangs and a great blackness seized me."

"Lies! All lies!" The steward shouted in despair.

"Truly one of us lies." Julius said. "The serpent itself could have proven your honesty if it wasn't missing the tip of its tongue!"

Six guards wrenched the serpent's jaws open. Julius was right; there was a stump on its tongue where the forked piece should have been. Then Julius took out the tip of the tongue on his white vest and raised it high for all to see. "Is this proof enough?"

The King nodded convincingly. "You have won the case."

Princess Jeanne appeared dressed in her finest blue gown, laced and studded with pearls and diamonds. Her golden hair was bound by a tiara of blood-red rubies. She walked proudly and smiled at the masked prince.

Julius' already pale skin turned paler when he saw his beloved princess.

His morning star was no other than the golden maiden.

Fate had cruelly played her jokes. Waves of crushing despair took hold of him. If only the princess hadn't concealed her hair, then maybe he could stop himself from falling deeply in love… Yet, she was a charming and a lovable person, the other half of his soul. He couldn't and wouldn't stop himself from loving her. There was nothing to regret. Time may go back but he won't change their star-crossed love either.

"As the champion of Camelot." The king spoke in a slightly gleeful way. "You will not take my daughter as your bride but to be the queen of Arthur."

Julius fell silent and looked at the princess sadly. She gave him a tearful stare, sighed loudly and casted her gaze away.

"It is time for old scars to heal." The king scratched his beard in contentment. He had given a just retribution, or so his rash mind had thought.

He never realized he broke the heart of his most beloved daughter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Last Dance**

An armada was made ready, the largest one in France. It was filled with rich treasures, a fitting dowry for the new Queen of Camelot.

The weather was fair at first. But within a week they ran across rough waters. Soon the Princess and her maidens were seasick, for they were not accustomed to travelling. So Julius bade the captain to pull ashore to the nearest land, the god-descended Greece.

Once the ship dropped anchor on the coastline, Julius and the other men carried the women onto dry land. The blonde Princess had declined any help and decided to walk alone on the plank. She was careful to avoid Julius. However her knees began to wobble and she tripped. Julius leapt into action and caught her in his arms as they tumbled over the white sand.

Their eyes met and the world paused once again. The ember they hid sparked to a brighter, stronger flame that consumed them more.

* * *

There was a national holiday on the island, a thanksgiving for the thunder-god Zeus. The natives welcomed the queasy company and bade them to join the activities. The Greeks had a strong sense of hospitality, a virtue passed down from Olympus to mankind. There was singing, dancing and feasting. Hundreds of boars were sacrificed for the empty plates, the best wine was served.

Princess Jeanne took a big bite on a rosy apple. She had intentionally refrained from dancing, making corns an excuse even if she didn't have any on her feet. The pulsing music turned sweeter. It was a waltz for couples. All her maidens had dragged an unwilling partner to the dance floor. She smiled as she watched the scene.

Somehow she felt envious. The princess remembered her happy but brief stay in the village. There was an occasional campfire polka, a ball under the light of a thousand stars. It was simply romantic. Back then she would snap her heels from waltzing the night away with Julius, laughing and living life over and over again. Those were the good old days…

Now she was going to be married to his uncle. It made her feel very old, ancient even, despite her young age of nineteen.

If only she could have one last dance with him…!

The simple wish was granted. Somebody tapped her shoulder gently. The princess turned around to see Julius.

"You wouldn't deny a dance with your future nephew?" Julius jested as he offered his gloved hand.

The princess laughed and held his hand. "I wouldn't you little rascal."

The lights dimmed and violins sang an orchestra of a starry-eyed melody. The Princess was reliving her past. She sank to the sanctuary of his embrace deeper, never wanting to let go. She wanted to cry on his shoulder, to complain about life's unfairness. But she couldn't. As a queen she should be a pillar of strength.

Julius had noticed her unusual quietness. He knew all too well the reason and that invoked his great longing for her. "King Arthur will be a loving lord to you." He falsely comforted.

"I don't care how kind or loving he may be." She gripped his shoulder and bent her head. "You are my love for as long as I live."

Julius lifted her chin gently and kissed her. Tears streamed down their faces as they shared their silent farewells. "I love you so much, but I can't be with you. We have our own share of responsibilities."

"If there was another world after this life?" Princess Jeanne said. "Would you be with me?"

"I would, if such a place existed."

It was already late, half past the bewitching hour. Everybody was busy partying; nobody had noticed the lovers leaving. They went to a nearby inn to stay for the night. Julius had rented a single room for them and they both knew why. There was so much to share, so much to feel and so little time.

She stayed beside him until dawn, making love. She knew her wedding day had come, the only one she will ever have in this life and the next.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Doomed Wedding**

The moments sped on angel's wings as Julius and the Princess roamed the vast wilderness, canoed in the crystal clear lakes and spent the night in each other's arms. Julius had wished that the seas will never calm. In the end they stole an extra three days but they both knew the duties that awaited them.

On the fourth day they set sail on the morning tide.

At last the powerful armada arrived to her destination, Camelot. King Arthur himself and his entire court came to greet the Golden Maiden.

"You are the loveliest maiden I have ever laid eyes upon." King Arthur held her hand. "I thought this marriage was a way to bury the century old enmity of our kingdoms. Yet Cupid had fired his arrows to my heart. Your hands are cold but mine are big enough to warm them…"

For the young prince, all hope was crushed.

The wedding day came. The palace was filled with the scent of sweet-smelling roses and pure lilies. Church bells chimed. Doves fluttered to the heavens to herald the good news. Invitations were sent from all corners of the land. It was a wedding of the century, truly an event worthy enough to be imbedded upon the annals of history.

The bride walked down the aisle wearing a beautiful swan-white dress, a long veil concealed her face. Her husband-to-be and the priest awaited in the gilded altar. At her side was her proud father, the King of France. The people seated in the chairs began to weep in joy. Today was a meaningful day, a special day when two people became one.

The wedding was said to be the happiest moment in a woman's life. However, it turned out to be a complete lie for the Princess. Unbeknown to all, she had been weeping under her veil.

The priest opened his leather-bound bible and read the rites. For her it was a curse. She kept looking around for Julius. She hoped he had attended the ceremony.

Rather, she had hoped he would steal her away.

The church was filled with strange, unfamiliar faces. She felt like a lost child. She felt weak and vulnerable. She kept searching for his beloved face on the crowd, the face that gave her courage and love.

He wasn't there. A myriad of strangers still.

The priest repeated his question for a third time. "Will you take the king as your lawfully wedded husband?"

The Princess could not utter the words. The letters choked on her throat, cutting off her air. She was betraying her beloved right in front of his eyes. Worse, she had lied before God. In a half-hearted way, she nodded her head.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Solution for a Broken Heart**

Julius rode away from Camelot to escape his guilty love for the Queen. Their relationship was morally wrong in the eyes of the populace and God. He couldn't bear to see her become Arthur's Queen, not his, but his uncle's. He searched for adventure to clear his troubled mind, attaching honour and glory to his name. Whilst in the evening he searched throughout the sky for the Evening Star while playing his harp to soothe the ache in his heartstrings.

A year passed, the seasons may change but his love still stayed the same. Distance did not make his heart forget; rather it made him yearn for her more.

After a series of forlorn riding he somehow found himself standing at Camelot's gates once again. The city welcomed their most famous hero in triumphal splendour. It should have been one of the proudest moments in the masked prince's life, as he knelt before his uncle. The Queen also had come to the hall to welcome him back, her blue eyes being emphasized by the torches blazing in the tripods.

Julius knelt with a pounding heart. He felt her affection had grown stronger for him in the look of her glad eyes. They were mentally talking through mutual understanding. He imagined her scolding him for riding away from her, making her wait patiently for him every single day. The quest was done and he promised he would never leave her side again. In response, the Queen smiled back as if she had accepted his oath.

Julius was contented. A great peace filled his mind.

The Queen was there and that was all that ever mattered to him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: I See You**

One sunny day Julius came upon the Queen in the little garden at the top of the castle. The honeysuckle bloomed, filling the air with a nostalgically sweet fragrance. She was alone, weeping for her homeland. Her golden hair was braided with white daisies and columbine, making her resemble a nature goddess.

Jeanne made room for him in her seat; and he sat down. They were alone, save for the abundant flora and chirping pheasants. King Arthur was away for the moment, visiting another capital. They talked for some time, the situation becoming awkward. The atmosphere was suddenly a hundred times more romantic.

All his kept emotions came rushing to the light again and he put his arms around her, kissing her passionately on the lips. She held no resistance as she willingly clung to him like a vine intertwining a tree. There was no going back for them.

During their secretive liaison Julius' ornamented mask fell off, exposing a large ugly scar that extended to his left eye. He broke from their union and began searching worriedly, covering the left side his face with his hand.

"Julius, is something wrong?"

"Don't look at me." Julius said, hiding his face further. "I'm hideous."

"I fell in love with your soul, darling, before everything else. I know people with eyes closed; they don't see you like I do " Jeanne held his hand. "Why can't you look into my eyes without any secrets?"

Gratefully, Julius held her close and whispered soothingly in her ear. "Thank you."

As ill luck would have it, they were seen by the King's adopted son and Julius' closest friend, Cesare, who was secretly envious of Julius. He was one of the nobles who plotted the ruin of the prince. From that day on, he spied on the lovers, planning a bitter revenge involving Arthur, Jeanne and Julius in the same disaster.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Caught!**

Cesare had written to the King about the Queen's dire illness. The letter stated she had begged Arthur to visit her instantly on their bedchambers. Fearing for his wife's state, he immediately cancelled all appointments and went with the messenger delivering the lying letter.

He had arrived before nightfall, three days earlier than the expected date.

The King brushed aside all the Queen's ladies-in-waiting and Julius' loyal friends who tried to hold him back.

He was simply dumbfounded. Why was everyone trying to restrain him?

The King opened the door. In their bedchambers he found the Queen and Julius held close in each other's arms, violating the sanctity of marriage. The betrayal had stabbed him like a knife goring his insides. He would have forgiven his wife if she had an affair with a different man.

Not his own nephew.

One question dominated his mind: Why?

King Arthur began to retrace his actions. He was a good father figure and a loving husband. He wasn't numb enough to notice his wife's cold attitude towards him. Every time he came near her, she would frown and find some excuse to leave. The king had tried his best to make her happy, to no avail. Their age gap was a distant thirty years. Everything was just too awkward from the start.

The king was aware of their tragic backstabbing for some time, although not directly. He had overheard his vassals whispering how the Queen would enter Julius' chamber whenever he was not around. He was a patient who killed his doctor and loved his illness. He knew yet he refused to believe the truth that was too painful to bear.

Wrath clouded his thoughts, a fire enveloping his very flesh. He ordered the guards to throw the adulterous couple into the dungeons. They were going to rue the very day they were born, the king thought angrily.

He was going to make them taste the fires of hell- especially the little harlot.


	15. Chapter 15

**Note: I do not discriminate people with leprosy. I only used the disease's description and how people treated the said disease from the time of the Middle Ages.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Punishment**

Accused of witchcraft and adultery, the Queen was sentenced to die by the flames. Julius, on the other hand was condemned to be crucified on the outskirts of town, serving as a warning for all to never dwell upon the sinful lust of adultery.

Julius was to die in the morning, Jeanne at midday.

The young prince was lead to the execution site in chains. The same people who rejoiced in his name had now thrown stones or sticks. There came a point wherein an angry man threw a tomato at him and called him a demon. Julius merely bent his head as the rotten fruit splattered into his face. It was the mayor himself, the mayor who frequently dinned at their home.

Neighbours were traitors.

They passed by the spacious manor he and Jeanne used to reside. A burning flame and blackened rubble remained of what was once a parcel of good memories. The townsfolk had set it on fire, fearing it was an abode of forbidden magic. The escorting guards fended the savage crowd off. There was no use of crucifying the victim if he died along the way!

Julius wondered how he came to this level. He was a Crown Prince, a hero beloved of all. Now he was all alone. Judgement was waiting for him, in this life and the next. It was ironic, cruelly ironic that the sweet word of love was the nails that were going to crucify him.

Up ahead the familiar dirt road was a white-washed chapel. Julius was an intelligent but a desperate man. A quick plan entered his mind.

He was either going to save the love of his life, or die with her in the flames.

Julius asked the guards to let him pray inside the chapel alone to make peace with God. He was repentant of his actions and wished to die with a clear conscience. The soldiers conversed among themselves. They were the prince's former comrades. The prince was known for keeping his word. Anyways it was futile to escape; there were no other passageways except for the main door and a little square window atop the altar. Below the window was a cliff.

The escorts agreed to his humble request and unlocked the chains that bound him. They closed the heavy wooden door behind him and vigilantly guarded the entrance.

Working quickly, Julius found the ladder under the priest's table. It was used for emergencies. Out of the blue, the friendly friar had once mentioned the object's location to the prince after he helped repaint the church. The priest had a reputation for seeing prophetic visions.

Maybe he had planned to save the young prince in advance.

Climbing up the ladder, he slowly opened the rusty window and lowered himself to the steep rocks. Using every muscle and tendon, Julius cautiously descended to the lush ground.

* * *

The Queen's makeshift pyre was a walking distance in these woods. Jeanne was led to the stake wearing a rough sackcloth dress, a poor alternative to her rich damasks and glittering crowns. The crowds bellowed "Repent! Repent!" in a chanting speech accompanied by hymns for spirit cleansing.

King Arthur watched coldly, his heart hardened to stone. A minister read a passage from the Bible containing proverbs of forgiveness. The reverend stopped abruptly. "Do you denounce the black arts?"

Jeanne looked at him with tired eyes and said. "Why do you call our love black magic?"

The King of France furiously climbed the stage and slapped the silly girl. "You're a shame to France's royal lineage!"

'Am I damned for acting how I feel?" the Queen replied. "I am wiser than our ancestral fools. Heaven knows I only loved Julius and nothing can change that, not even death."

Her old father was now convinced that a demonic spirit had taken hold of his only child. His ears were smouldering from her headstrong sentences no woman wished or dared to utter. "Burn the witch!" the king said. "This monster is no longer my daughter!"

Julius had witnessed the event in the distance, hiding beneath a healthy shrub's foliage. He was hoping Fate would send a mysterious opportunity. He would take anything just to save her.

Fate did answer his silent plea. Julius heard the chiming of bells attached to wooden clappers. There was a band of lepers dressed in brown cloaks chorusing "Unclean!" in their diseased-racked voices. Their scaly skin and falling fingers make them a nightmarish sight for the living.

Julius stepped in front of the terrible company and bid them a good day. "Where are you headed off my friends?"

"To see them burn the Queen." A leper croaked. "Truly with heavy hearts, sir."

"Would you save her, if you could?"

"We would." The leader of the pack spoke. "If the King would hear our pleas."

Julius took out a small pouch of golden coins and offered it to the leader's open hand. "Lend me your cloak and clappers. Stay here while I go on with your companions."

So the diseased man took off his putrid rags and gave it to the prince. Julius flung it on, slouched to resemble a hunchback and went away with the company crying "Unclean! Unclean!"

When they reached the designated place, the crowd fell back in fear. Leprosy was a curse given by the gods. It was a disease that would ravage and feast on one's features, exposing raw bone to the air. The afflicted would be isolated until the day kind Death would snatch him away from fearing eyes of the populace. A torture for one's body and mind.

King Arthur trembled when the sad lepers knelt before him. It was as if the devilish spirits had come to torment the poor king more. His wife's devilry was enough to shake his cowardly wits to insanity.

"Your highness we ask for a boon!" Julius spoke out, his voice imitating nails scratching a smooth surface.

"Speak."

"We ask you to give the Queen to us!"

"Leprosy is a death slower and uglier than fire." King Arthur addressed to his executioners. "Cut her loose and give her to these monsters!"

Jeanne began to scream while Julius sprang to the pyre to seize her. She fought him like a wild animal caught in a trap. The mob was shouting in angry dispute. She wouldn't allow Arthur and her father to laugh at her misery.

Just then, she had heard Julius' whisper in her ear. "Jeanne, it is I."

Hearing his voice, she ceased to fight and sank willingly to his arms like a tamed bird.

As soon as she was midst the crowd of lepers, the people parted to let them through.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: The Angels cry as we say goodbye**

Word of Julius' escape reached the king's ear by evening. His wrath was terrible and he sent out a hunt in all directions, offering a bounty of a thousand gold coins. The bounty-hunters eventually found the lepers who stated that a bold warrior had kidnapped the Queen and rode off to the unknown. At the end of the search, no clue was found of Julius and Jeanne's whereabouts.

They had vanished into thin air.

Several legends had sprung up, ranging from the mystical city of Avalon to a tale of lovers magically turning into doves, forever soaring the skies wing by wing.

Little did the superstitious tongues know that the lovers were actually sheltered by the Elm Forest, a pretty woodland far south in Camelot. It was less frequented by people for the ghostly tales enveloping the place like a miasma seeping from a grave. Elm forest was a realistic version of Delos, the shining star that had protected Leto from Hera's unjust wrath.

A perfect haven for refugees.

There they remained for two summers. Whilst the deer pranced on the meadows, Julius and his lady danced upon the daisies and tulips. Carnations bloomed velvet in midsummer's dream, the duo hunted under the light of the silver moon. Autumn and winter had merged into the enchanting strings of the prince's harp.

Everything was perfect.

But their happiness was not meant to last. The king had come to Elm Forest to hunt, bringing a large party with him. Along with him was the lieutenant, who wanted to prove to his weakling privates that there were no such things as phantoms or any of that gibberish mentioned in old wives' tales.

When the hunting game was over, the lieutenant instructed his right-hand to count all the beagles. Apparently one was missing, the official's favourite. The lieutenant thundered and cursed to the frightened man, commanding him to recount with more accuracy while hinting darkly of a certain beheading. The right-hand repeated the counting…

One was indeed missing.

The angered official summoned all his men, commanding them to search for the valued hound. None volunteered, despite the fact that the lieutenant offered a promotion to anyone who could successfully retrieve his pet. The spooky rumors were just too taxing.

Fuming, the lieutenant lightened a brand and proceeded to find the dog himself. The path was dark. Soon he was able to find a makeshift cabin in the middle of the forest. Since there was no door, he entered.

There was only a single room in the wooden chalet which served as the dining and living areas all together. A cheerful fire burned in the hearth, warming the room quite comfortably. Near the fireplace was an occupied bed.

The lieutenant crept closer, tiptoeing. In the bed lay a sleeping couple held close in each other's arms. The man had white hair and a mask. The woman beside him wore her golden hair to a braid.

At first glance the officer had thought he had stumbled upon an elves' home. Fearing their strong magic, he ran out of the cabin and back to their camp in panic. Once he came back to his wits he realized it was the couple the King was searching two years ago. The idea of quick money ran into his mind. To capture the adulterous lovers, he had brought with him four armed men.

Including the king himself.

* * *

Julius awoke at a start. There was a feeling of forebode reigning in the atmosphere, the sensation was so thick that one can cut it with a knife. Mysterious elements were at work. A great shiver ran to his spine, a cold bitterer than the snow. He silently waked his lover and told her to join him in an evening stroll.

Jeanne found nothing wrong with this. She was accustomed to the little surprises he usually prepared. She smiled and agreed.

On their usual walk Julius began to say how much he loved her, like a dying man reading his will. She was bothered by his unusual behaviour, although lightly. Julius was a great actor, too good to make anyone believe. Perhaps he was doing his little mischievous skits, she said to herself.

They soon reached a small damp cave. In a comforting way, Julius bade her to never leave the cave until sunrise. Just before he left, he took a last lingering glance at her and smiled sorrowfully. Jeanne began to sense something was amiss.

Still she waited.

Julius must be preparing the house for her birthday, which was tomorrow. He was going to fetch her in the morning and everything will be alright. It brought little comfort to the girl and Jeanne started crying.

Why did everything felt like a goodbye?

A loud gunshot broke the monotonous silence. It was followed by a dog's bark and a rushed crunching of dried leaves trampled by human feet.

Opposing his instructions, she ventured out of the cavern and into the startled wilderness. The skies were darkened by masses of confused birds startled at the gunfire. Fat rabbits hopped hurriedly to their holes and foxes hid in their dens.

Jeanne hid behind a tree. There were men in the clearing, Arthur's vassals. They seem to be surrounding something, kicking the poor creature every now and then to pacify it. One of the men brought a bucket full of water and dosed it on the already unconscious being.

Something inside her wanted to go closer, to confirm the worst of fears.

There was no need, however for her to move an inch closer. The badly beaten person began to crawl towards her piteously, his eyes beckoning her to run away. A cruel soldier kicked him on the side, making him roll helplessly on the dirt.

Jeanne clasped her mouth from screaming as tears fell from her cheeks. It was her Julius, her poor maltreated Julius.

A man with a wispy grey hair appeared holding a stingray whip. It was King Arthur exacting his revenge.

"Behold the mighty champion of Camelot!" King Arthur grabbed Julius' face roughly. "You have fallen far, _my_ _nephew_."

"Not as far as you, _uncle_." Julius snickered; his lip bleeding.

"You have guts! I like that!" King Arthur whipped him a few times. The blows were heavy and thick, enough to scar the flesh and tear the clothes.

King Arthur took a break. "Can you feel the pain now, Julius? This is nothing compared to the damage you have done!"

A smile broke in the young prince's bloody lips. "Pathetic."

"Your body is crying out in pain, but your willpower says otherwise. Your punishment is only beginning. Once it starts…" King Arthur raised his whip high. "You'll beg hell to save you!"

Jeanne couldn't stomach his suffering any longer. Her heart whimpered for him. She threw herself at his side, receiving the blow on her back.

"I'll do anything you want, Arthur!" Jeanne held her lover tight. Blood oozed from the wound on her shoulder. "Just stop hurting him!"

"Alright." King Arthur said, holding the whip between his gloved hands. "Return to my side and abandon that scoundrel. I am willing to take you back to the Court and into my heart."

"No, Jeanne!" Julius contrasted. "I'd rather die than live without your love!"

Jeanne smiled sadly and clasped his face. "I can't let them kill you. You are the world to me. Live. Be the living legacy of a love that destroyed nations and defied kings." She turned to face Arthur. "I accept but grant us more time to say goodbye."

"That is well." The king nodded in agreement. "I give you until the rain falls from the skies. Also…" The king walked away and halted for a moment. "Julius, I give you three days to leave Camelot and never come back. You exiled from this land!"

"If trouble ever befalls my Morning Star, _I_ _will_ _come_ _back_!" Julius warned.

The king shrugged and continued walking, signalling his men to join him. The henchmen obeyed and soon the meadows were cleared save for the lovers.

Julius took his sword from the hilt and gave it to Jeanne. "Use this to remember me by. Think of me and I'll think of you."

"Why was everything against us?" Jeanne said tearfully.

"We had the right love at the wrong time." Julius kissed her on the lips as the angels cried. The cherubs' glistening tears fell from the heavens in drops to storms, drenching the thirsty soil with life giving water.

* * *

Thunder loomed from the distance at the Owari castle. The bard fell silent, signifying the end of the story. He bent his head and droplets of water fell from the hood, making dark spots on the fabric in his lap.

The silver haired Emperor gazed at the fire, pondering in deep thought. He was remembering his own love story and he was thankful the Empress had never left his side, despite his rather unruly behaviour. He was as headstrong and as stubborn as a mule and only the Empress had the power to persuade him, to break his will with her sweet smile.

The emperor's adviser, Mitsuhide could not help but wipe a tear trickling in the corners of his eye. His lady love, the beautiful Ichihime rests her head on his shoulder and wept for the unfortunate lovers.

"Is that the end of the story?" Empress Jenna inquired pitifully.

"It seems so."

"What has become of Sir Julius?"

"Julius returned to Rome soon after. His father died and he was made king. He spent the next twenty years conquering the lands of Gaul and Britain. Until now, his heart yearns for her like the tide chases after the moon. There was even a poem attributed to her, a quite contemporary piece in Rome." With that he sighed and chanted:

 _Let me whisper upon the wind_

 _Farewell, my beloved, farewell_

 _Till the moon and stars part_

 _I render thy heart and soul to thee_

 _My love, My morning star._

The Hall fell silent once again. The violent raindrops blared against the window's shutters. Lightning flashed and the winds whistled like grass flutes made by satyrs and nymphs.

All of the sudden, the Empress laughed and clapped her hands. "I appreciate your tale, bard. And welcome to the East, Emperor Julius of the West!"

"You have a quick eye for things." The bard raised his head. Something glimmered within his hood as the fire's light shone upon it. He took off his hood, revealing a masked face. Twenty years has done its toll. Streaks of grey began to mix with his snowy hair. Nevertheless he was still good-looking despite his prime age of forty-three.

"Laurel-bound conqueror, what has pushed you to visit our shores?" The Eastern Emperor asked, slouching in his seat further.

"I have come to forge an alliance." Julius said. "I need your help."

"What assistance does the most powerful man on earth ask?"

The westerner smiled, his mask glimmering in the dusky light. "Help me retrieve my beloved back."

The silver haired male glanced at his determined wife. He took a long sip in his teacup before answering. "Justifiable. How many ships do you need?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Tidings**

So Julius had successfully forged an alliance with the East. With the East's advanced firepower, his enemies were down to their knees. Bullets were foreign to the Western weaponry. Combining Nobunaga's Three Line Volley with his Tortoise tactics, his legions became invincible.

The French renaissance was gradually waning, paving way for Roman world conquest. Rome was at the height of power. Her regions were expanding, swallowing nations and empires in her march of domination.

And then one year all the stories had ceased to arrive at their footsteps.

Nothing more was heard of Julius until one day a young knight came up to the Eastern Hall alone. He was presumed to be French from the coat of arms in his armour, a blue banner decorated with a crowned sword and two irises. The shoguns and the Emperor were enraged by the knight's brashness. The French were their enemies, a supportive ally of Camelot. What had alarmed them more was the golden spear on the lad's hand, its head fashioned to an eagle's likeness.

It was the Aquila, a prominent symbol of Rome. A prestigious inheritance passed down from king to son.

By this time the Eastern nobility had a hunch that something terrible had happened to their Roman ally. Emperor Nobunaga sprang into action, equipped with the Muramasa. His vassals followed close behind him with loaded guns and knives. The traitor will be dealt with justice.

The knight stood unwavering even as the tempered point of the blade touched his helm's babera. His chin bled even without contact from the cursed blade. The Empress raised her hand in the air and clenched it tightly, signifying them to stop.

Emperor Nobunaga grimaced and bade his men to return to their seats. "Consider this you're lucky day." He warned to the dauntless knight, the sword still pointing to the young man's helmed head. "Speak now or forever lose your tongue!"

"I would." The knight brushed off the blade. "If you will allow me to tell the tale."

Nobunaga scratched his chin and returned the sword to its hilt. "Very well, then."

"Venerable sirs." The knight spoke in a blunt manner. "Emperor Julius had died."

Numerous gasps had erupted from the Eastern Hall. "How did he die?" Nobunaga said in unison with his wife.

The knight sighed. As he spoke, the sorrowful event had once again lived in their minds, reeling and replaying like a film created by imagination's fluidity.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: The End of the Story**

The Queen sat in her vintage dresser. Her gloved hand caressed the bitter reflection in the mirror. The deep blue eyes she once used to look at the world were now replaced by two orbs withholding anger. Her beautiful skin had turned ashen white. She was no longer the gay young creature who frolicked in the meadow, free of thought and naïve of love.

The Queen's thoughts stumbled upon the memory of her father, who was now resting in his grave. He was a kind parent yet a mindless savage when he was angry. To avenge his brother, her father had unknowingly sentenced her to a life racked with misery.

* * *

She ate some buttered vegetables and musk-perfumed meat set upon gilded plates. The long dining table was empty save for her. The servants stood at the side like cold stone statues incapable of breath. Jeanne offered to share the simple meal with the maids.

Not one soul responded, they continued to stare at dead air.

The Queen bit her lip. She had remembered her husband ordering the maids and servants to ignore her. She was lunatic, the physician declared and therefore a person to be avoided at all costs. It made breakfast lonelier than before.

Her fork stabbed a piece of blanched cauliflower. Its pure whiteness had reminded her of Julius' snowy hair. She had wished Julius had knew about her- no, their daughter Galahad. Galahad was a smart girl with a touch of mischievousness and spun, an angel sent by heaven. She made life worth living, erasing the Queen's suicidal tendencies.

As soon as Jeanne returned to Camelot, she began to puke every morning. She was pregnant and Arthur knew it wasn't his child. Enraged, Arthur secretly paid the court doctor to publicize her insane for the purpose of humiliation. He was successful. People had pretended she didn't exist.

Except for her daughter.

The girl was extremely fond of her mother. Every day Galahad would sneak out of the castle to gather feathers and present the treasures to her. She seemed to have an open displeasure to her grandfather. She was aware of the abuses he did to the Queen.

The girl had wondered who her real father was. She had heard rumours in the court, malicious gossip about her mother's infidelity. To calm her daughter's worries, Jeanne had given her Julius' sword, saying it was her father's. She would meet her father in the right time.

Galahad became interested in the sword arts. She became inseparable with the vintage blade and had trained in secret. Jeanne was worried that Galahad might have snuck out with the army. The girl had the calling for world domination, just like her father.

There was a war, a war between Camelot and Rome. The news of her misery had reached the ears of the Emperor. He had sent spies in Camelot's domain. Arthur had broken his oath and Julius was extremely angry.

The only woman he ever loved had cried behind his back.

Julius' wrath knew no bounds. He sent all his legions to annihilate Camelot from the face of the Earth. The word 'family' had ceased to exist in the Emperor's dictionary. Arthur was losing the favour of battle; the Roman forces had conquered 2/4 of his land and all of France.

He was going to reclaim her.

The other day the Queen had received a message delivered in secret. It read a simple ' **Wait** **for** **me'** which was signed by the Roman Emperor. She was overjoyed. Her salvation has come. She had been waiting for him for twenty years and she could wait a century more…

Then they would be able to build the loving family their daughter deserved.

Jeanne smiled to herself as she raised a crystal goblet to her lips. The sparkling champagne tingled in her taste buds in a sizzle of sweetness.

Galahad came running towards the dining hall, her armour smeared with caked blood. The girl had turned pale; blood had drained from her face and lips. She tore her golden hair as tears fell from her face in absolute confusion.

King Arthur followed her, beckoning her to calm down.

"I have killed my own father!" The crazed girl screamed in horror before running out to the gardens in her frenzy. "The gods… why?! No! No!"

The glass in the Queen's hand fell. It shattered with a loud _crack_ as millions of shards flew in different directions. The wine splattered in the marble floor, dyeing the white tiles a bloody red.

For Jeanne, time seems to stop again.

Her world had ended.

* * *

Jeanne clasped her sleeping daughter's warm hand. She had to be sedated to prevent herself from committing suicide. The girl was experiencing horrid nightmares, in reality and in dreams. Galahad wailed in her sleep as her face contorted to a troubled frown. Her inner demons had taken over. Her mother held her tenderly to stop the nightmarish convulsions.

There was no salvation for her endless nightmare.

The girl had awoken, shivering from a bad fright. She sank in her mother's embrace, a sanctuary against the world's brutality. "I need to tell the truth, mother." Galahad wailed.

Jeanne nodded and ran her hand through her daughter's hair. "Okay, Mommy's here for you."

In a series of sobs, the girl stated that she had indeed escaped with the army. Camelot, her home was under attack it she felt a calling to defend it against the invaders. Armed with her sword and equipped with full armour she travelled the battlegrounds in search for the enemy's general. One day she came across the general's camp. She hid behind the thick undergrowth, looking for a chance to strike.

A man with white hair emerged from the villa.

He sat upon a wooden bench to gaze upon the stars while strumming the strings of his harp. Galahad had memorized the melody by heart, a lullaby her mother had sung. After an hour or so, the masked general turned around and left.

Grabbing her chance, Galahad charged at him with sword in hand. The general had turned in time to see her stabbing him in the heart.

The enemy Emperor fell to the ground. Without bothering to retrieve her sword, Galahad had turned to leave. Her mission was done. She was a hero.

A weak hand grabbed her ankle. "Where did you get the sword?"

Galahad stopped. "It was from my mother. She said it belonged to my father."

"Was your mother's name…?" The emperor croaked out hoarsely as blood spilled from his mouth. "Jeanne of France?"

A feeling of sudden dread overcame the disguised princess. "Yes, how did you…?"

"I gave it to her." A weak smile graced in the Emperor's pale lips. "You are my child."

Overwhelming guilt and remorse tore her apart. She fell on her knees before her dying father, begging for forgiveness. She was the villain. All she wanted was to meet the father she had never met and by some twisted coincidence she killed him.

Julius placed his hand over her head. "You are my heir. I give you my blessing. Govern and rule Rome with justice." He took off his mask and gave it to her along with the Aquila. "Tell your mother I love her with all my heart and soul." He closed his eyes as he succumbed to death's embrace. "God knows… I did."

Galahad broke down after finishing her tale. Both mother and daughter embraced each other in tears. Nobody was at fault.

They were victims of circumstances.

* * *

Jeanne went to the stables, her face concealed in a hooded black cloak. She had lulled her daughter to sleep before creeping out.

A pair of slender arms held her waist. It was her daughter. The girl had sensed her leaving and had followed her. "Mother please, don't leave me!" The girl wailed in despair. "I don't want to be alone again!"

The Queen held her daughter's shoulders tenderly. "Be strong, my little love. Mommy will always be in your heart."

"Please don't leave me!" Galahad cried. "You're the only mommy I have!"

Jeanne could feel her heart breaking from her daughter's words, she felt so selfish. She was going to leave her poor daughter behind. She kissed Galahad lovingly on the forehead. "You're a big girl now. I've been with you all these times." She drew a deep breath. "Won't you allow me to be with daddy?"

The girl averted her gaze. "Take me with you!"

"You're still far too young. You'll understand when you'll reach my age." She said. "Your life is just beginning. But don't worry, someday we'll meet again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

Jeanne rode away towards the battlefield. The raging war had ended in Julius' death, yet the remnants of bloodshed stayed. Thousands upon thousands of reeking corpses provided an enormous feast for the vile vultures. Arrows and bullets littered the blood-soaked earth.

She recited a quick prayer for the fallen soldiers as she passed by.

These soldiers might have a family waiting for them back home, a family that continued to wait for nothing. She was the one at fault. She was Helen of Troy. Nations and empires had fought for the possession of a single woman. There have been many more kings and princes before Julius who died in her name, too many to count. Beauty was a curse at times, a jinx that took everything away from her.

A burning pyre could be seen beforehand. Jeanne set her dainty stallion free; she wouldn't need it any more. Climbing up the pyre, she fought her way to the dancing flames.

In the center lay Julius in his deathly shroud. Death had not marred his beauty; he resembled the sleeping Cupid whom Psyche loved. A serene smile played in his lips.

No, Julius was her Cupid, not Psyche's.

Jeanne held his cold body in her arms, never wanting to let go. Fate had been too cruel to them. As a princess she had been taught that the world was made for her. They were damn wrong, so damned wrong. There was no such thing as a happily ever after.

"You have met our daughter?" She asked even though she knew he could not hear her in the dark underworld. "She had your eyes." She had imagined him smiling and thanking her for raising their child well.

The fire had climbed up to the hem her dress, slowly destroying her body. She did not cry out in physical distress for the wound in her heart was deeper. "I'm here now. You said I'll be your queen. You lied… because you died!" She cried. "Please answer me!"

Of course, there was no reply.

Jeanne kissed his cold, lingering lips. The muses sang in recollection of Aphrodite and Adonis's tragic tale, a poem handed down from the divine writers to humankind's Homer:

 _"Kiss me yet once again, the last, long kiss_

 _Until I draw your soul within my lips_

 _And drink down all your love."_

Their love will survive longer than time itself, a bridge over the horizon of the burning evening sun. The pull of hope for a new world was strong, a world where they could finally be together. "In the next life…" Her voice dissolved in the crackling of the flames. "May Fate turn kind…"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: History Repeats Itself**

After finishing his tale, the young knight took off his helm. The he was a she. The knight was none other than the lovely, misunderstood Galahad. Her golden hair had been cut short to fit a warrior's lifestyle.

She had a strong resemblance with the Roman Emperor, an exact duplicate. The noblemen could not help but mutter silently. "Like father, like child."

Galahad knelt before Emperor Nobunaga with tears in her eyes. "I have come to this Halls to cleanse my soul. I am an unholy manifestation, a child conceived from sin. I have murdered my father. I am nothing but a bastard murderer!" she snivelled in grief. "Kill me. Punish me as you see fit!"

"I loathe killing a Caesar." Nobunaga said. "If you have truly repented of your sin, arise. From now on you are no longer Galahad. You are reborn as Augustus, a foremother of kingly descendants!"

"Thank you." Augustus rose on her feet. The weight of sin was lifted upon her shoulders. The old her had died. From now on she had to be a man, an Emperor who would lead his vassals to endless victories. She took something from her pocket.

It was a white mask.

With one hand she wore it over her beautiful face. "I will continue my father's work!" Her clear blue eye was ablaze with determination. "The world will bow down before me!"

"That truly is the end of the story." Empress Jenna said very softly.


	20. Epilogue

I finished typing the document on my computer. I watched tiredly as the printer spewed out the finished product in a matter of seconds. I never knew I had the capacity of writing a 2 hour movie script overnight. It's my new project: My World Ends with You, a tragic love story set in the middle ages. There will be horses, 3D dragons and intense liaisons all in one flick!

Fans have stormed my personal blog. The news has been raving about it positively. History experts have deemed me perfectly accurate. I have unknowingly based my story on the obscure life of Julius Caesar, the father of Augustus. Information about them is scarce. Surviving ancient text depict Julius as a 'stepping stone' while Augustus as the 'venerable successor'. However between the two, Augustus was the one who successfully united the east and west by marrying Emperor Nobunaga's son. With full access to the eastern powers, conquering became an easy game for her.

Other than that, all information about them had been destroyed… intentionally.

Likewise, Augustus' family tree only stated Julius as her biological father, nothing more. He cannot possible beget a child alone.

Months after I published my synopsis, historians and archaeologists have found a sensational find: a surviving biography buried within a layer of soot. Genealogical testing had identified two separate DNAs within the unidentified ashes. According to the papyrus the ashes were her parent's remains. The team of scientists exhumed Augustus' tomb to retrieve hair samples and further led a paternity test on the ashes.

It was a match! The biography, their biological explanations and my story matched eerily.

The historians were dumbfounded. How could I possibly know the tale?

Who knew a dream can cause so much hysteria?

I brushed my white hair and gave myself an imaginary pat on the back for a job well done. I'm one of the most successful film directors/writers in the twenty-first century. And to top it off, I am also a CEO of a multinational company, the Campbell Enterprises.

And no, I'm not Christian Grey. The name's Jaime Campbell.

* * *

I went down the stairs. My siblings were making a racket. Shirley was making breakfast today; she was wearing a retarded apron with a 'Sexy Chef' emboss. It was her turn to make the meals. The maid has taken a 2 month leave with acceptable excuses, her mother's acquaintance died. The last month her uncle's aunt's uncle's cousin's grandfather also died.

"Yo, yo, yo!" Shirley said in a stupid fashion. "Isn't it hot in here? Oh, wait. It's just me!"

The twins booed noisily. "Go die in a hole!" Nell yelled. "You suck bitch!" Bianchi added.

I was the one who raised my siblings. When I was seventeen, our parents died in a tragic helicopter accident. From then on I had to manage our business while studying multimedia arts and finance. I was hoping one of my siblings would help me manage the enterprise after they finished college; my hair couldn't get any whiter.

But on the second thought… _never mind._

Shirley ran up to me and grabbed my script. "What's this?" She slipped through the pages. "How can you read this shit? There's no pictures?!"

"That's a screenplay, Shirley."

"Ughh… This script is cheesy shit." Shirley scrutinized. "Cheesy like my omelettes cookin' on Sunday morning."

"Yeah and this cheesy shit will buy your new Iphone and laptop." I murmured indistinctly.

"Cheesy shit?" She chuckled sheepishly while whipping her tangled blond hair back to keep the strands out of her blue eyes. "I mean cheesy, finger-lickin' good as a hundred wet fucks shit!"

"Give me a break." I took the script from her and placed it on my bag. I fished out some money and gave it to her. "Buy a pizza for dinner, I might come home late."

"Nah, big bro is as kind as ever." She laughed and kissed the thick wad of bills before stuffing it in her apron. "So who's the lucky babe you're going to bang tonight?"

"My, isn't your vocabulary colourful?" I laughed. "How old are you to begin with?"

"Sweet fourteen, ya sly sex machine!" She snorted proudly. "Say, would you like some grub?" Shirley asked while waving her spatula in the air.

I took a peek at the monstrosity sitting on our table. A sad imitation of an omelette greeted me, a perfect label of 'grub'. The word grub itself did not sound appetizing. Rather it sounds like a noun used to describe a green blob mutated by high doses of radiation. "Umm… there's a party on the set. I'll eat there instead." I replied wisely.

"My cooking ain't that bad!" my sister defended.

"This is 9% eggshell, 1% cheese and 90% crap." Bianchi stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"We want big brother to cook. " Nell said. "Not some worthless piece of shit masquerading as our sister."

"Hey!" Shirley snapped to our younger siblings. "Get me my tasting plate and fork!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the devil incarnates tucking five jalapenos in the omelette. "Don't eat that." I warned.

Shirley raised her eyebrow as she took the plate from the giggling twins. "Do you doubt my supremacy?!"

"Not exactly…" I placed my hand across my face. I knew what was going to happen next.

"Fuck then! I'm chowin'!" She took a large bite. Her face turned red like a ripe tomato. "Motherfucker I'm on fire!"

The gods, I swear I could see smoke emerging from her nose and ears. She gulped two cartons of milk in one sitting as the twins laughed their socks off.

Coyote was chasing the two Roadrunners again. I watched them fondly as they trashed my $300000 sofa and vandalized my Playboy magazines they unearthed under the cushions.

I just hope they won't find my other 'toys'.

"Hey look what I found!" Nell held a canister of chocolate flavoured lube. She squirted some of the slimy liquid in her mouth. "It tastes delicious!"

I'm blessed to have such a normal family.

* * *

I arrived to the set on time. Lights, camera, action. The place was bathed in countless fluorescent light banks, making the studio feel cinematic. Several paparazzi stalked my every move, asking me very personal questions while clicking their cameras. Their lenses follow you everywhere, literally. Hollywood was glamorous; still it comes with its disadvantages. Not all that glitters is gold.

A brunette reporter from Cosmopolitan stepped up with a microphone in his hand. "Can you tell us more about your barely visible love life?"

The other paparazzi clamoured noisily. It was the best question anybody dared to ask.

I smiled and waved at the camera. "Currently I'm single. I have siblings to raise and businesses to manage. But I'm not closing the doors to opportunity."

Soon interviewers from The New York Times, Reader's Digest, CNN, etc. asked questions nonstop. After satisfying their curiosity they shook hands and left. I received a text message, saying there were more reporters looking for me. I took heels trying to find a perfect hiding spot. It was futile; they even scout the bathrooms and restaurants.

I passed a dark corner. A hand grabbed my collar. A silver haired male with black highlights placed his hand on my mouth while placing an index finger on his lips, signalling me to hush.

A stampede of obsessive reporters passed by without noticing.

I drew a sharp breath as he removed his hand from my mouth. "Thanks Noel."

"Anytime mate." he said in a fake country accent.

My saviour/assailant is Noel O'Connor, the millennial megastar or the acknowledged god of acting. He was legendary. All the movies he starred were blockbusters. He's a good friend of mine.

He led me to a pink pastel room with a white sofa as its center. A slim, black-haired woman sat on the sofa. She was signing several posters and notebooks with her gold marker. She took a break and sipped some Arabian brew. "Would you like some coffee?" she offered in Cleopatra's sweet voice.

"Pour some for me, Pauline sweets." Noel sat beside her.

"No thanks." I rejected politely. "I had five cups this morning."

She was Pauline Jenna O'Connor, the highest paid actress in Hollywood. The cameras adore her; rather the spotlight was born for her. She was smooth and extraordinary whether her character was doing a romantic tango in Paris or assassinating a nation's president. Pauline also did humanitarian duty outside her work zone, earning her a title of honorary damehood from the Queen of England.

One thought entered my mind: I need them for my movie! And I won't allow some whack-job, mediocre, son of a bitch rival filmmaker to steal them away.

I handed them a copy of the script I recently photocopied. They scanned through the pages with a hint of approval on their faces. "So?" I asked optimistically. "Are you interested?"

"Of course!" Noel said. "I won't deny an offer from by the greatest director of all time!" He gently blew the steaming coffee. "My role is Emperor Nobunaga, am I correct?"

"Yeah." I replied. "Is there a problem?"

"It's just that, you regularly assign me to the role of the protagonist." He smirked. "I presume your taking part of this production?"

"I wanted to test my acting skills." I said coolly. "But I promise; I'll hire you for lead in my next movie."

"No hay problema mi querido amigo!" Noel quoted jollily in Spanish.

Paulina placed the script on the table and smiled. "Funny. I have the same name as the Empress."

Noel became somber. He held her hand tenderly and said. "You're the Empress of my life."

Pauline hit him playfully on the arm. "I'm not falling for your flattery!"

"Would you believe me then, my Senyora if I say I want to spend my entire life in your embrace?"

They kissed afterwards. Secretly I envied them; love was a foreign term in my dictionary. They have been happily married for fifteen years. Maybe Noel was Emperor Nobunaga and Pauline was the Empress. In another world, they found their way back to each other's heart.

I had an incurable ache for longing something, or rather someone I have not met yet. It became apparent when I was eight. It was a confusing feeling in a young child's perception, yet an experience of absolute grandeur. The thought of having a soul mate was romantic in a sense; it makes me swoon even at my age of twenty-six. I wonder if I could find the one to whom my heart cries.

Something was missing in my life.

* * *

I ordered for two Belgian frappes on a French bistro. I sat down on a table for two set and watched my cell phone nervously.

" _It's not a date."_ I assured myself _._

I was tense. This was the first time I would meet a woman in a restaurant. I was so engrossed in my career that I didn't have any time for that dating rubbish. One of the film's sponsors wanted me to meet his daughter who was interested in the movie. She might be the perfect leading lady, the sponsor said. So I decided to give it a go.

I loosened my tight collar and heaved a sigh. It was a beautiful night; the sky was littered by constellations of twinkling stars. The low moon serenaded the earth. The smell of newly baked croissants and cream puffs wafted in the air. Nostalgic.

There was a live concert in the bistro. Peter Cetera was the guest tonight. The claps were deafening. As soon as the piano struck a note, the people mellowed down in quiet anticipation. The singer then sang After All, an award winning song which weaves a ballad about destiny.

It was my favourite, the song I listened to every time I wrote my scripts. I began to calm down. I then began to review my script, specifically the chapter where my character falls in love with his lady.

A strong gust of wind swept the papers from my hand.

The papers floated in the air's direction. I chased after the papers in a mad hurry. Each letters was worth valuable gold. By gold I mean an Oscar.

The wind led me to a lonely bridge illuminated by two lamp posts. Fireflies hid underneath its fragrant honeysuckles and roses. Soon I was able to gather all the papers lying on the ground. As I assembled them, I noticed some parts were missing: Chapter 8.

I scratched my head in worry. The papers might have been lost in the lake's waves by now.

My Iphone rang. I pressed the start button to revive the dormant phone. There was a message from an unknown number. It must be the chairman's daughter.

The text simply read: _**I'm**_ _**right**_ _**behind**_ _**you**_.

I turned my back and saw her. She was wearing a blue Lamé dress; a white hat sexily adorned her golden hair. Her gloved hand held the missing pages of my script.

She was the girl I saw on my dreams.

She was not a stranger to my perception; there was a hidden connection between us. Several memories flashed on my mind, repressed memoirs worth centuries. I was travelling back in time. I understood. I was Julius and she was my old love, Jeanne. My heart seems to burst in its ribcage. I have never felt this way before, the giddy feeling of love.

She must be an enchantress for she had bewitched my mind and ate my heart. Shakespeare, did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, for I never saw true beauty till this night. I was bedazzled by the ascendance of a golden phoenix. Such beauty, she shames Aphrodite and her muses!

When I saw her, I fell in love. She knew and smiled.

"It's good to meet you." The blonde said warmly. "My name is Joan."


End file.
